February 11

February 11: Turning left.
The baby is just starting to enjoy a good scribble with a thick, bright crayon. His sister and his brother are more than happy to sit alongside him and direct (or steal borrow the purple crayon). I watch closely, not to referee, because the little one and his giant I-am-displeased screech can take care of themselves. Instead, I’m looking for a sign … Is he a leftie, too, like me?